Thursday, June 04, 2009

Cabin Fevre ~ 4. Demon Etchings


I leave these words for any unfortunate who should pass this way. Do not remain here; there is naught here save damnation. I have stayed too long, by preordination or by cowardice I know not which and it matters little for I have become what I always have been; a demon.
A demon for whom the flesh is willing when the mind is weak.
I ask what would I be should the flesh be nought ?
The answer I know not.
My home is an absurdity; all the elements are upside down. The sea no longer threatens the journey of this sleeping ship, the ship has grown soft in not having to resist to sea’s onslaught. In a sense this is perfect, life without physical threat.
Let these scraps of sepia parchment be my confession; my obituary should it be possible to find some other place where death holds no deeper horror than the end of existence.
My conclusion is as follows:
It is love that makes all things happen; this journey so deep and short; so woefully unforgiving and brutally lonely. And it is love too that is the only refuge; the raft at which to cling when the faith in God’s wrath does wane; a strawberry in a field of thistles.
I am in need now of the company of one whose beauty of form and spirit would allow me to separate them from all others, being neither predator nor prey, but mind of equal and opposite parts, whose shared experience would soften the way forward and allow to enter those open wounds of tender regard that the soul deems more valuable than all else.
But you traveller who by circumstance driven must pass this way, you who may have lived a life that did not concern itself with all the surrounding darkness, you whose faith is yet unbroken by this place, you need not heed the words of this lesser demon or greater god. What constitutes your soul is yours alone, with only you who will be its judge, jury and executioner. It is here that true power resides, here at the centre of a universe created for one god – the god that resides at the core of the human mind.
I am but a leaf, pressed twixt the pages of the days; the hours; the minutes. I am dust on the wings of the eons, blown hither and yon by the whim of whatever passes as the creator; not worthy of judgement; fit for punishment at the hands of my own desires and weaknesses. I am a shell for the hollow longing; a carrion marionette in this sideshow where lost souls go, their callused hearts to shed in laughter black and cruel.
I am not worthy of this narrative, for it is not the confessions of the damned, but rather the petitions of the worthy, that deserve the attention of Hope.
Farewell traveller, and pray that, on some ragged link, further down that cursed chain, you do not come face to face with the demon that resides in your own heart.









13 comments:

Punch said...

Actually i have meet the demon who resides, and he has given up the persuit of happyness, seems he would rather be left alone, reading sepia parchment.

Yodood said...

Believing the world is wrought by the wrath of gods is constant predation by one's inner demon.

James Higham said...

I ask what would I be should the flesh be nought ?
The answer I know not.

The Flying Dutchman? the Mary Celeste?

Pisces Iscariot said...

Punch: "he has given up the persuit of happyness" - he also appears to have given up on his spelling :D

Yodood: I learned a new word to day and it is a good 'un
predation n. The act or practice of plundering or marauding. The capturing of prey as a means of maintaining life.


James: so many questions :) hopefully answers will ensue.

human being said...

the traveler who has not experienced darkness... whose faith is never broken.... will be an eternal wandering soul...

you are blessed not cursed to be able to visit your demon...

the one you are in need of company resides in you... listen to her voice... no matter how devilish it might be... try to understand what she says... and why she says it... then little by little you fall in love with her and you start to praise her beauty of form and spirit...

only those who come face to face with the demon that resides in their heart... and fall in LOVE with her can find PEACE... and salvation...


A great post... the imagery and atmosphere were so impressive...

Pisces Iscariot said...

human being: your comments are perfectly aligned with this story - in the next few episodes you will see how William Fevre comes to love his demon.

the walking man said...

So Master William has become his demon or his demon has become him or were the two ever separate?

Pisces Iscariot said...

walking man: perhaps he is merely tethered to his own (protestant)perception and demon is the only word that fits how he feels about himself. The conceit of my story is that Mr Fevre has created his own hell.

James Higham said...

Faith in G-d's wrath - now I missed that first time round. Interesting concept.

Moineau En France said...

i love this, pisces, it mirrors well what i have been going through the last week that i just feel it in my open heart and calloused brain... for it is my brain that has become crusty. yet, i am flooding with so much feeling!

i just finished a poem on the anniversary of my one-time daughter's death, which i will post soon, and it is all about this Love of which the demon speaks. ah, this loneliness can kill us, this darkness and these painful memories... until one takes comfort. and what comfort is there?

last night on turner classic movies, they had five ingmar bergman films back to back... talk about taking apart oneself piece by piece to move from demon to human! but we started human; can we end up that way? i hope, yes, hope, without which we would surely perish.

and if even the demon can hope, then that hope is even greater than i thought, for in this dark place, without the love and comfort of other souls more beautiful than our own, we would surely perish! without the unconditional love i've found from my partner of 16 years, and even during my education into this brave new world of trust and dependence, when i still wanted to die, he helped teach me to live!

i love jöns, the knight's squire in "The Seventh Seal". at one point the woman he has saved from rape now wants to throw her pity upon the man who raped her as he agonizingly begs for help, dying of plague. jön's says "it is useless, it is useless, it is utterly useless. do you hear me? i am trying to comfort you."

your narrative just about sums that up again... and yet, that Love is there! thank goodness. xoxooxoxoxoox

Harlequin said...

the narrative is a lovely recursion...quite effective in its reflexivity... a demon calls and is called forth, the strange familiar;
I also especially liked the sepia feel throughout... sepia, dust, dried leaf; you have created a mood that is quite palpable.
most enjoyable for both my sensory and imaginative tracts

Pisces Iscariot said...

James: What other reason for faith but the fear of god's wrath
Laura: Mr Fevre is on a journey beyond the confines of his time and his religion
Harlequin: dust is an underrated state of existence - there is always more.

JeffScape said...

I've been thinking "ooh, how expertly Lovecraftian" while I've been reading this story...

This chapter nails it.

Hints of Lovecraft, yet all Pisces Iscariot.